Title: C-O-F-F-E-E
Summary: Greg’s been getting spelling lessons.
Authors: sarcasticsra and amazonqueenkate
Pairing: David Hodges/Greg Sanders
Disclaimer: Uhm, no.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Beta’ed by the wonderful subluxate.


Hodges should've known it would be Greg to give them away. But of all the things it could've been (he’d half expected the man to casually announce in the break room one day, “Oh, David and I are sleeping together now. FYI,” actually) he did not expect it to be spelling.

Greg, after all, was an abysmal speller. He was the kind of person who made you wonder how they ever passed the third grade when you saw them write anything down. The man couldn't even spell “fountain” without a pocket dictionary. Hodges had tried, patiently (well, as patiently as he ever was), to correct this behavior, but it didn't seem to be working –- which made the actual outing all the more shocking.

The night had started out innocently enough. Hodges had simply been in the break room enjoying some of Greg's coffee (he still had to search for it; the change in their relationship had not altered the man's tendency to hoard his precious brew) when Nick wandered in. “That can't be the department's stuff,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Very good. Stokes, one. The obvious, nothing,” Hodges replied, dryly.

Nick allowed himself a slight smirk as he reached for a mug. “So I guess suggesting you be a humanitarian and share is probably out?”

Hodges looked scandalized. “Are you asking me to be nice?” He paused, considering this. “Oh, wait. It's not my coffee in the first place. Well, it's Sanders' fault. He has crappy hiding places.”

“You're so generous, sharing stolen coffee.”

“Never say I don't give back.”

Nick smirked at him again and helped himself to some of Greg's coffee, when the coffee connoisseur in question headed into the break room, followed by Sara. He caught a whiff of the familiar scent and looked at Hodges and Nick suspiciously. “Are you two into my coffee?”

“Don't look at me. It was all Stokes. I tried to resist, but he nearly forced it on me,” Hodges piped up.

“Don't look at me, man,” Nick defended.

Greg glanced briefly at Nick before zoning more fully in on Hodges. “Didn't your mother ever teach you not to take things that don't belong to you?” he questioned, sounding less annoyed than his quasi-glare would have one assume.

“Didn't your mother ever teach you how to share? Or, failing that, how to find hiding places a blind three-year-old wouldn't be able to discover?”

“You could have just asked,” Greg retorted somewhat huffily, ignoring his sarcasm as he reached for his own mug. “I might have shared.”

Sara snorted. “On what planet?”

“Yeah, man, you never share your coffee. I've asked before, remember?” Nick added. Greg frowned.

“Hey, whose side are you two on, anyway?”

“The side that gets us good coffee instead of Sara's sludge,” Nick responded.

“Exact–- hey!” Sara hit Nick on the shoulder and he grinned at her not-quite-apologetically. She rolled her eyes.

“Stokes, however misguided he may sometimes be, speaks the truth,” Hodges put in, sipping the now-controversial coffee.

Sara glared at him. “One of you could try making the coffee if you hate mine so much.”

“And miss out on this rousing CSI-technician bonding opportunity? I think not.” Hodges smirked.

“Besides, there is no possible way to make the department coffee taste decent. I think it's actually mud and they're trying to fool us,” Greg cut in.

Hodges adopted a mock-surprised expression. “Sanders? Saying something semi-clever? I think I might faint.”

“I think that might make you a better conversationalist.”

“At least I can spell conversationalist.”

Greg turned up his nose. “C-O-N-V-E-R-S-A-T-I-O-N-A-L-I-S-T,” he stated plainly.

Nick and Sara stared. “Dude, when did you learn how to spell? You once misspelled apple,” Nick replied, astounded.

“And not to mention the great 'funtain' incident of '05,” Hodges put in, getting over his momentary shock. Who knew his lessons had actually been sinking in?

Greg smirked slightly and held his chin high as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Ever since you taught me how to spell spa, Hodges, I just haven't been the same,” he replied.

“You mean things actually stay in that head of yours? Will wonders never cease. Next thing we know, Stokes here will actually come ou–-”

“Hodges,” Greg said, in a warning tone. Nick and Sara looked between the two of them, appearing slightly confused. Sara had her eyes narrowed, peering at them suspiciously, as though she was figuring something out. Hodges didn't like that look.

“You know what is interesting, Hodges?”

“What would that be, Sidle? You've finally stopped pining over Grissom?” Defensive sarcasm? Check.

“Actually,” Sara continued, not justifying his crack with a response, “it's interesting that Greg learned from you and not the rest of us.”

Nick, catching on, smirked ever-so-slightly. “Yeah. He never listens to us.”

“Why would he when he could be graced with my knowledge, instead?” Hodges asked, sipping his pilfered coffee with an air of nonchalance. He wondered if Sara and Nick were buying it.

“Because no one likes you?” Nick questioned. Sara smirked and pursed her lips, as though she was trying not to laugh. Yeah, not buying it.

Greg chuckled. “It's a mystery.”

“Oh, the cruelty I must bear from these lower life-forms.” Hodges expelled a long-suffering sigh. “I suppose that's the price I pay for my genius.” Well, he wasn't about to let on that he knew they knew his charade was exactly that –- a charade.

Sara snorted. “I think the word most commonly used–-”

“Want some coffee?” Greg asked her suddenly, and Hodges nearly broke his teeth when he pressed them together. Leave it to Greg's well-meaning defense...

Nick glanced at Sara, who blinked. “Uh, okay,” she answered, caught off guard.

“Why the sudden subject change, Greg?” Nick raised an eyebrow, and he and Sara were shooting each other looks that Hodges didn't like one bit.

“You actually expect Sanders to have a reason for his abnormality?” Hodges asked in his best you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me voice.

“Sometimes,” Nick replied, with a slight smirk. “Because it wasn't that abnormal.”

“Just sneaky,” Sara added, accepting her mug of coffee.

Greg stroked the mostly-full pot protectively. “I didn't want you corrupting my coffee with your cruel ways,” he told her, before putting it back on the burner.

Hodges rolled his eyes. Had Greg really just said that?

“The man is clearly insane. We should obviously just accept this and move on with our lives. Don't you three have crime scenes to investigate or bad guys to capture heroically?” Hodges said, setting down his now-empty mug. He was about to head to the door because making a quick exit seemed to be his best plan.

Greg rolled his eyes. “This from you? That's rich, Hodges.”

Sara nudged Nick in the arm. “They're avoiding the question,” she pointed out, smirking at him.

“If you are referring to that question so mind-numbingly idiotic that I think it has actually lowered my IQ several points, I have already offered a valid answer. You chose not to accept it, and that's really just your problem, now isn't it?”

Hodges' progress towards the door was suddenly impeded by Warrick appearing there in all his tall, muscular, squash-you-like-a-bug glory. “Hey, guys,” he greeted, and Hodges cursed the cosmos. “What's goin' on?”

“Greg has learned to spell,” Nick stated, flashing one of his charming grins.

Greg sighed into his mug. “Not a big deal,” he muttered.

“And both Greg and Hodges have yet to explain when, why, and how. It's most interesting. Almost like they're hiding something,” Sara added cheerfully.

Hodges glared at her. “Sidle, I knew you were demented, but this just adds a whole new layer. Sanders finally picked up a book for once in his life. Astounding for him, I know, but not all that interesting to those of us who have lives.”

Hodges was not expecting Warrick to break into chuckles. “Guys, isn't it obvious? Greg's avoiding everyone's gaze and Hodges is more sarcastic than ever. Put two and two together.”

“If this conversation is any indication, they'll probably end up with fifteen,” Hodges muttered.

Sara blinked at him, and then frowned. “You mean...”

Nick's grin widened, and he actually started laughing aloud. Deep belly laughs, no less.

“Glad everyone's amused,” Hodges put in, trying not to feel bad about Greg staring into the depths of his coffee cup. “Are we done here? Some of us have this thing called 'work' that we participate in.”

“I just got here. I'm on my break, finally,” Warrick replied.

“Yeah,” Nick said, between laughs. “Sara and I were working on a car. We should go.” He paused, smirking. “You planning on giving Greg some more private 'spelling' lessons, Hodges?” He and Sara chuckled to themselves as they left the break room.

“I should get back to work, too,” Greg said, finally setting down the coffee cup he'd probably dedicated to memory, with the way he'd been staring at it. Hodges sighed and followed him out of the door. He wasn't good at this 'being sensitive' stuff.

Greg must have been going down the hall at a fairly good clip, too, because he had to take long strides to catch up. “Sanders, wait,” he called when Greg was at least in a respectable earshot. Greg turned around and shot him a look – confused and slightly hurt. Great. Slightly hurt. He was the one who'd been outed, and Greg was slightly hurt.

“What?” Greg asked, somewhat impatiently.

“While I know I'm certainly not the prettiest or the nicest man around, I'm not stupid. Why are you upset? And, as I just witnessed, you're a horrible liar, so I wouldn't suggest trying.” Hodges sighed. Shouldn't they make handbooks for this sort of thing? Chapter three: What to do when you and your boyfriend are outed at work.

Greg rolled his eyes. “I'm not upset,” he lied, and he was just as horrible at it as Hodges had predicted.

“No. Of course not. Studying your coffee cup and not looking at everyone, well, that's just normal, unsuspicious behavior.”

“Why not?” Greg sounded distinctly like he didn't want to be bantering in the hallway.

Hodges let out a deep breath. Patience. He had that, somewhere, stored up, right? “Can you just... tell me what's wrong?” He stopped before adding sometime before my ninetieth birthday and silently commended himself on his use of restraint.

“I just–-” Greg shrugged. “I didn't mean to, 'kay?”

“Didn't mean to, what, precisely? Stare at your coffee cup? Fail ninth grade history? Learn how to spell?”

Greg rolled his eyes. “You know, you could try being a human being,” he snapped.

Great. Hurt and pissy. Next, he just needed homicidal. It'd be the holy trinity of relationship killers. He could start a rock band.

“In case you haven't noticed, I'm the one standing with you in the middle of the hallway trying to discern why you felt the need to commit the inside of your coffee cup to memory. If I weren't being a human being, do you think I would care enough to try?” Hodges sighed. “Can you just tell me what's bothering you?” He was two seconds away from using the dreaded 'p' word, which would either get Greg to talk or cause him to have a heart attack from shock. He could never be certain.

“Fine.” Yeah, definitely pissy, too, and now Greg was committing the floor to memory –- not an improvement, given the fact that the janitorial staff had gotten neglectful, lately. “I didn't mean to tell them.”

Ah. Proverbial lightbulb moment. Cue the heavenly choir, and all that.

Hodges' jaw nearly dropped open in disbelief. This was what was bothering Greg? “Sand–- Greg,” he started, deciding the use of the last name would not be appropriate at the moment, “Were you in the same room I was in? If memory serves, Brown was the one who finally pieced it together. Or was the prattling about coffee and cruelty secret code for ‘Hodges and I are sleeping together now!’?”

“The spelling.” Greg shook his head and kept staring at the floor. “I didn't mean to give them a clue to figure it out.”

“I know it's hard to miss because I've only been standing in front of you for the past ten minutes talking to you, but you're the only one upset by this.” Hodges rolled his eyes. “I'll let you in on a little secret -- no one likes me. Shocking, I know, but people never did make sense. Ergo, I don't have anything to lose by this being public knowledge, since my reputation is really not all that sparkling in the first place.”

Greg looked surprised, which –- for Greg –- wasn't that surprising at all. “You're not mad?” he questioned.

“Yes, Sanders. I'm livid. Telling you I'm not is a clever ruse to hide it from you so I can poison your cat.”

He smirked, just slightly. “I don't have a cat.”

“Foiled again.” Hodges snapped his fingers. “I'll have to come up with another dastardly plan.”

“Well,” Greg started, “I suppose I should get back to work.”

Hodges looked surprised. “You mean you actually do that? And here I thought it was nothing more than a cunning plot so you could wear the cool vest.”

Greg rolled his eyes. “Just like you pretending to like me is little more than a ploy to get me to hide my coffee in the obvious locations?”

“You've hid it in the obvious locations since before we started this clever charade.”

“Right.” He paused, considering Hodges in a way that made him slightly nervous. “So... You're okay with...whatever?”

“I'm fine. Now get out of here before Sidle or Stokes appear and attempt cleverness by asking you to start an impromptu spelling bee.”

Greg smirked. “Spell impromptu.”

Hodges rolled his eyes. “B-I-T-E-M-E.”

Greg's laughter could be heard down the hall.


-End